Chapter 13
Nikki Quinn shoved her shoulder against the door and held it for Alexis to barrel through. Both women were gasping, breathless from the run across the parking lot to the warmth of the lobby.
Panting, Nikki yanked at the scarf around her throat as she steered Alexis down the hall and around a corner to the building’s coffee shop. “We need to talk.”
“That we do,” Alexis said, following Nikki into the steamy warmth of the little coffee shop, which had four small tables and one secluded booth in the rear. Nikki headed for the booth. Lunch hour was over, so the place was virtually empty.
The women ordered the restaurant’s specialty, tuna on rye and black coffee.
“That was a fiasco if ever there was one,” Alexis said, referring to the sisters’ luncheon as she squirmed out of her down jacket. “But that’s not why you want to talk, is it, Nikki?”
Nikki looked down at the watch on her wrist, a birthday gift from Jack several years ago. She let loose with a long, drawn-out sigh. It seemed as if her entire life was scheduled in minutes. Six minutes to do this, nine minutes to do that, fifteen minutes to do something else. At the end of the day, every day, to her own chagrin, she simply ran out of minutes.
“No, it isn’t. I just want to give you a heads-up. You’re my friend, my employee, an associate at the firm.”
Alexis held up her hand to stop Nikki’s flow of words. “Nik, you don’t owe me an explanation of anything. I work for you. I have no intention, ever—that’s as in ever—of asking you to make me a partner. I’m happy as a clam with the salary you pay me, which is more than I deserve. I don’t want or need any extra responsibility. I don’t want for anything, I’m content with what I have. I just hope you are satisfied with my work performance.”
“Alexis, we’re soul sisters. When I started the firm years and years ago—and they were lean years, believe me—I had a goal. I reached that goal. Now, my back is to the wall, and my employees are making demands I will not tolerate. The meeting at two-thirty, with Allison, Irene, and Pamela, is not going to go well. I’m going to cut them loose. I’ve already alerted security to be on standby, and HR knows what is going down.”
“If you’re asking me if I approve, the answer is yes. We’ll manage without them. I know three lawyers who would jump at the chance to work for you. They’re young, fresh out of law school, but that’s what you need, Nik, young blood, gung ho, and ready to set the legal world on fire. Georgetown Law will give you a steady flow of young lawyers. You and Jack are both alumni, and they’ll bend over backward to help you. You hire more paralegals. We can wind these class-action suits down if we have enough eager bodies willing to work late and weekends. Every young lawyer knows you have to pay your dues before you make the big bucks.”
“You make it sound so easy, Alexis. It isn’t. I think I’m a hair away from Jack’s asking for a divorce. It’s my fault, too. I took on too much. I didn’t think it all the way through, then Jack up and left the firm. I was counting on him. I couldn’t stand in his way when he said he wanted out. We’re a hot mess is what we are at the moment.”
“Kind of like me and Joseph. I hear you, friend.”
Their food arrived, and both women gobbled it down and asked for refills on the coffee.
“Beats that hard-boiled egg I eat every day at my desk,” Alexis said, laughing in a way that indicated a total lack of amusement. “What do you need me to do, Nik?”
“Sit in on the meeting with me. Then, or before if you have time, call around, find me some good lawyers who are willing to come on board. The firm has a healthy bank account, so offer double what the other firms are paying, with a robust bonus when we wrap up these three class-action suits. And, of course, a generous expense account. I want them ready to go to work Monday morning. Make sure they understand we will be working through the holidays, with Christmas Day and New Year’s Day our only days off, and make sure you tell them there will be travel involved. Lots of travel.”
Nikki whipped out her company credit card and handed it to the waiter.
Ten minutes later, the two women were in the elevator, heading toward the offices of the Quinn Law Firm, which took up the eighth and ninth floors of the huge office building in Georgetown. Nikki looked down at her watch. She had forty-five minutes to get her ducks in a row. She stopped at reception to ask if HR was on standby and if security was ready to go. Betsy, the grandmotherly receptionist, assured Nikki that everything needed for the aftermath of the upcoming meeting was in place.
“I’ll start on my calls. Meet you in the conference room at two-thirty.” Alexis was a whirlwind as she moved down the hall to her office.
Nikki walked down the opposite hall to her own office. She stood in the open doorway, staring at what she called her space. She’d decorated it herself. It had comfortable furniture that stopped just short of being called cozy. She’d picked this particular room when she started her firm because of the real wood-burning fireplace. She did love curling up next to it in the winter, while she wrote briefs and studied depositions. There was greenery, not a lot, but what she had filling the corners was lush and healthy-looking. She tended the plants herself. She looked at her Christmas cactus, which was full of cherry-red blooms. She smiled. Isabelle had given her the plant years ago.
The walls were covered in bookshelves, holding books that she referred to on an almost daily basis. Her walnut desk was covered with files and folders. Her chair was a gift from Myra, who said it had once been her father’s. She loved it, and the old cushions on it, which were almost flat from years of use.
The plank floor was covered with colorful hooked rugs she’d picked up at a long-ago flea market. The small fish tank, with beautiful tropical fish, was a gift from Jack five years ago on Christmas. All the fish had names: Teddy, Freddy, and Lettie. She had no idea, and neither did Jack, if the fish were boys or girls. All in all, a very pleasant workplace.
Nikki hung up her coat, stashed her handbag in one of the desk drawers, and walked over to the fireplace to poke at the dying fire. She added another log. Her favorite wing chair, covered in nubby chocolate-brown fabric, beckoned her. This was where she sat to take deep breaths and focus on troubling issues. Staring at the flames somehow seemed to calm her, gave her perspective, and managed to rejuvenate her. She hoped the magic worked today.
At twenty after two, Nikki stood up, smoothed down her jacket, and was nearly overcome by the realization that she’d screwed up her marriage, had overextended herself with the three class-action suits, and was indeed a mess. She took a deep breath, fought the tears burning her eyes, and made a vow to ask Jack for help.
Would he help her?